Anecdotes about Vegas, Low Stakes Poker, and the Characters Who Enjoy Both.

Thursday, May 29, 2014

If I Want a Bracelet, I Better Find a Jewelry Store

This is the story of my first ever
WSOP bracelet event, an all-too brief experience that took place on Tuesday.

Unfortunately, there’s no way I can
tell the story of my pre-mature exit without making myself look like a total
idiot.And I seriously considered not
even posting about the event, other than to give the result without the
detailed explanation that I am noted for. For a few hours after my bust-out, I was
certain I would just punt on this post.

But no, I paid $500 to play in a
bracelet event, and damn it, if nothing else, I’m going to get a Rob-size post
out of it.I paid $500 for this friggin’
blog post, so, at the risk of all of you never taking me seriously as a poker
player again (assuming you ever did in the first place), here goes.

I do have an excuse for my
screw-up.But it’s just that—an excuse.It’s really just an explanation of where my
mind was when my brain took a few minutes off.But it is the truth, and the reader is welcome to buy it, or think I
should never be allowed near a poker table again for the rest of my life.

But before we get to the climax, you’ll
have to bear with me while I go on a tangent to explain my state of mind at the
crucial moment.

As I revealed here, I was allowed to
play in Event #1 at the WSOP, the casino employees event, because I work for PokerAtlas(which now encompasses
AllVegasPoker).I debated quite a bit
about playing in it.It would be the
most I ever paid for a tournament entry.And, like all WSOP bracelet events, it doesn’t have a very good
structure, to put it mildly.You start
with $3,000 chips.That’s the same as
the $1,000 bracelet events, but at least the $1K events have starting blinds of
25/25.This one starts at 25/50 (because
of the “discounted” buy-in, I assume).At least the levels are a full hour each.But starting with 60 big blinds is rough.

But as I said in the prior post, this
is the only event that is under $1K.So,
unless I was able to satellite in, this was the cheapest way for me to
experience a bracelet event first hand.I was concerned that I could end up spending at least as much as the
actual entry fee trying to win satellites to get into another event.This was a sure thing, for “only” $500.Since I now make my living from poker (though
not from playing, thank goodness), it seemed like something I should do
at least once.

I knew that a lot of my friends and
acquaintances would be there, but unfortunately, I didn’t see hardly any of
them.Too many people there, and I didn’t
get there early enough to mill around and hunt for my friends.Just as well, I guess.

The festivities got off to a bang—literally—with
canon explosions and dollar bills floating down from the roof.It turns out that they released $10,000 in
one dollar bills over the tournament area.Some tables had tons of dollar bills fall on them, but not the one I was
at.Missed our table completely.But I was able to see a bunch of dollar bills
behind a nearby table on the floor, and I did scoop up some.Sixteen in fact.So it wasn’t a total loss.

I had posted about being in the
tournament, and also tweeted about it, and I really appreciated all the good
luck wishes I received.But, after tweeting
my table and seat number, I announced that I was turning off my cell phone so
that I wouldn’t be distracted and could give my full attention to the matter at
hand.And so I did.

But, during the tournament
announcements, I heard the Tournament Director announce that late registration
for this event ended at the start of level 5, although most events had late
registration through the start of level 7.Why was that meaningful for me?Because it’s my job.

I had entered all the tournament info
on PokerAtlas (and also on AVP, even though you can’t see that anymore).Someone at the office questioned the late reg
time for Event #1, but I pointed out that it clearly stated that all Noon
events had late reg until basically 7:30 PM (two extra levels from last
year).It noted a few exceptions, but Event
#1 was not one of the exceptions.

Even as my co-worker insisted that
this must be wrong, I knew it was right based on the info on the WSOP site, so
that’s what I entered.

And now I had just heard that I was
wrong and my co-worker was right all along.

Damn.

PokerAtlas is actually being referred
to, by the WSOP, as “The Official Player’s Guide to the 2014 World Series of
Poker,” so it is critical that we get these details right.And however inadvertently, I had some incorrect
info on there.But there was still time
to fix it.I didn’t want people showing
up at 7:15PM trying to buy in and being told that registration had closed hours
before.So, I emailed the office and
told them of the change so that they could fix it.If someone had planned on arriving that late
based on earlier information (which was also on the WSOP site), there was
nothing that could be done.But if I
could prevent anyone from arriving too late going forward, I wanted to do
that.Hey, I am dedicated to doing the
job right.

To be clear.....the WSOP's own website had the wrong information on their site. It wasn't my error, it was theirs. I was trying to clean up their screw up. No matter, it wasn't the first time a poker room or a website has given me bad information. I'm used to it. I point out errors like this to poker room managers all the time. You'd be surprised how many tournament schedules or structure sheets I see with missing, misleading, contradictory or downright wrong information. I get thanks all the the time from managers and tournament directors for catching these errors and calling them to their attention.

I had to turn my phone back on and
sent an email to the office.Then, I
wanted to wait until I got a response that it had been fixed.Unfortunately, this was at lunch time, so I
didn’t get a response right away.All I
could do was put my phone on silent and check it periodically between hands.

The fact that my phone was on is
absolutely critical to my fast exit from the tournament, and I’ll get back to
that in a bit.

With a structure like this, I thought
the only way to play was to be extremely tight.Sometimes I play looser in tournament situations but this didn’t seem
the right time.In fact, most everyone
at our table was fairly conservative, seeing fewer hands than usual and raising
in smaller amounts than you usually see in a tournament.Everyone was probably playing the tightest
version of their normal game to start.

Early I had QQ and raised to $125
(normally I would have raised to $150).I had one caller.The flop was
Ace high and I bet $200.He called.The turn didn’t help me and I didn’t want to
lose any more chips on this hand, figuring the most likely hand he had that he
called my preflop raise with was Ace-something.I checked, he bet, I folded.

Still on the first level, I had Ace-7
spades on the button.With one limper, I
raised to $175.The limper was the only
caller.The flop was pretty good,
King-Queen-7, both the paint cards were spades.I bet $300 and he folded.

That was the only hand I won.

I started the second level (blinds
50/100) with $2,650 in chips.Other than
the QQ hand, I lost all the other money just on blinds, maybe once or twice I
limped with small pocket pairs.I was
card dead.

Between hands, I took out my
phone.There was a message from the
office that they would make the correction.Good.

But I noticed I had also received a
text message from a close family member.Of course, I read it.It seemed
that this family member, who had recently had surgery, was having issues and
was headed back to the hospital.This was
quite upsetting to me.And there was
nothing I could do about it.Of course I
wanted to receive this info.But from
300 miles away, all I could do was worry.I obviously couldn’t help them.I
knew I would call or text another relative during the break to see if I could
get more details.

Within a hand or two of receiving
reading this text, and with it still very much on my mind, I was dealt Ace-King
offsuit, under-the-gun plus one.First
in, I made it $250.One player called,
the big blind, who was the guy who had stayed in the hand when I had the
Queens.

I knew this guy was short stacked, he
had lost a big hand.But he had come
back some when he called a raise out of position with Jack-9 offsuit and hit
something.I thought his play was
questionable.I can see being aggressive
with a shortish stack and raising or shoving with Jack-9.But calling a raise with it when you don’t
have a lot of chips seemed incredibly risky.But it worked out for him.

Now, I was in seat 7 and he was in
seat 3 and my eyes aren’t very good and I couldn’t really see his stack very
well.But I certainly knew he had less
than me.

The flop was Jack-10-9, rainbow.So I had a gut shot.But I’m not risking a lot on a gut shot.He checked, and in that situation, heads-up,
I’m almost always gonna make a continuation bet, no matter how much the flop
missed me.

I put out a routine c-bet of
$700.Now, if that doesn’t sound routine
to you, you’re right.And I’ll get back
to that bet in a moment.For now, just
know that that was my bet.

The guy announced all-in and put out
his stack of chips.

OK, so much for that.I’m not calling an all-in with just a got
shot.No way.

But I didn’t just insta-fold.No, I didn’t want to do that.I wanted to go through the motions of asking
for a count and making it look like I was considering calling.Why?Well, I figure if I insta-fold there, it makes look obvious that I was
just c-betting.I don’t want to give out
that information.I wanted to make it
look like I had a hand I could conceivably call with, and that I was making a
thoughtful fold.

Big mistake.I asked the dealer for a count.She had just come to the table.She had a soft voice and an accent.She was Asian.That’s actually relevant to the story because
I think there was truly a language problem.

As I said, from my seat, I couldn’t
tell how much his bet was, I needed the count.Besides, it was part of the mis-direct (that I wasn’t c-betting with
nothing) that I consider the exact size of his bet.

She counted and said, “$1,080.”That’s what she said, or at least what I
heard.“One thousand, eighty.”

Instead of thinking, “How could it be
$1,080?We aren’t using $5 chips, the
bet has to be in multiples of $25,” all I was thinking of was, “That’s only
$380 more than my bet, there’s no way I can fold for that.And I do have outs.I have overcards and four outs to the nut
straight.”

I said, “Well, I have to call,” and
threw out a $500 chip, which more than covered the $380 I needed to call his
bet.

He flipped over King-Queen for the
flopped straight.I only had three outs,
since he had one of the Queens.

Of course, a Queen never showed
up.When the dealer went for my chips, I
was surprised when she asked for more.The $500 chip should have covered it and I had change coming.WTF?

Suddenly, when she said, “One thousand
eighty” to me, I realized she was saying, “One thousand, eight hundred.”And I felt very, very sick.

OK, honestly now, have you ever heard
a dealer call a bet like that “one thousand, eight hundred”?Who does that?Every other dealer on the planet would have
said, “Eighteen hundred.”And
it would have been clear to me that it was $1,800 and I would have folded
easily.

Did she really say, “one thousand,
eighty” or did she say “one thousand, eight hundred”?I know what I heard, but I’ll allow for the
possibility that I misheard it.Three times.But I know when I repeated it to her, I said,
“One thousand, eighty?” and not “one thousand, eight hundred.”I would never say, “one thousand, eight
hundred.”Never.So when she confirmed the number I quoted
back to her, she was giving me incorrect information, to be sure.

Note:I know there’s only a $700 difference between the two amounts.But when you start with only $3,000 in chips,
that’s a huge difference.I was down to
$600.$1,300 would have given me one
move before having to shove.But $600
did not.

I was sick.At least it made me forget, very temporarily,
about the disturbing text I had just read.

OK, now let’s get back to my flop bet
of $700.I don’t know what the hell I was
thinking.That bet should have been
$350-$400, something like that.My brain
was obviously still obsessed with that text.I was thinking that the pot was $1,000 so that was around a 2/3’s pot
bet.I don’t know where I got
$1,000.My mind was totally distracted.If I had bet $350, I don’t think I would have
any trouble folding even if I did hear “$1,080” instead of $1,800.”Easy fold.And if he raised less than a shove, I still easily fold there.Yikes, that was a bad bet.

And I didn’t even realize it until an
hour later, when I finally got around to writing the note about the hand.When I remembered betting $700, I was sure
that had to be wrong, how could I possibly bet that much?It just then dawned on me that the flop bet
was the first mistake I made on the hand, even before mishearing the amount of
the shove.

I can’t blame the dealer on that
one.And I can’t blame the dealer
anyway, because, you know, I should have been smart enough to know that the bet
could not possibly have been any amount that ended with ‘eighty.”Duh.

Two hands later I was the big
blind.With 1/6 of my stack already in
the pot, I was probably shoving with any two cards, but I was happy to see two
Broadway cards, Jack-10.The player UTG raised
a normal amount, it folded to me. I shoved, he called and flipped over pocket 5’s.I was happy about that.It was a race and I had two live cards.

Until the flop.There was a 5 on it.Also a 4 and 6, so I had a shot of going
runner runner to get a chop with a straight on the board.But that didn’t happen, and I was gone,
feeling worse than I ever have after busting from a tournament.

I’d like to think that I’m not really
a bad enough player that I would have butchered that hand so badly if I hadn’t
been distracted by some bad news.But of
course, you’re welcome to think otherwise.

And of course, I wouldn’t have
received that bad news at precisely the wrong time if I hadn’t been so diligent
about doing my job well—even when I wasn’t on the job, and was supposed to be
on my own time, having fun. Even when it was a case of my cleaning up the WSOP's own goof. If I had
ignored trying to make the correction for my employer, my phone would have been
off, and I would have read the disturbing text during first break. So it was a series of bad things that led to my distraction. 1. WSOP's initial error on their site. 2. My learning of that error that I had duplicated. 3. My turning on my phone to get it corrected. 4. My still having my phone on so I got that disturbing news at precisely the wrong time.

At least I’m good at my job, cuz I
suck at poker.

Now, what does the pic below have to
do with this post?Well, it’s a picture
of a big bust, and that aptly describes my WSOP bracelet event experience.

Note: Just got an update and my family member is doing much better and seems well on the road to recovery.

15 comments:

Hi Rob I think you are being to hard on yourself. Yeah maybe your play was questionable but with the small amount of chips you get on these buy ins even if you play perfect poker you are going to have to suck out on people to go very far. Given your state of mind about the screw up on the times posted and being informed of a sick relative I think what happened is kind of expected. Look we all have the dream of wining but tournaments are tough to go deep. You could have been card dead and blinded off. These things happen. See you on the felt.

Thanks, Ed, I appreciate your comments. I knew the odds were overwhelming that I would make it into the money, but I was sure hoping for a better story than this. Even busting KK vs AA first hand would have been a better story.

Get back on the poker tables as quick as you can so that you can put this behind you (even though I think that you're stressing way too much about it). You still had a long way to go to cash in that field, and you're going to see many more hands. Glad to hear the positive update on your family member too... :)

Now that you've had some time for the sting of screwing up to fade, let's talk about a brutal truth.

"With a structure like this, I thought the only way to play was to be extremely tight. Sometimes I play looser in tournament situations but this didn’t seem the right time."

100% wrong. Completely ass-backwards. Fast structures demand ramping up the aggression, not dialing it back. The fact that everybody else at your table was playing their tightest game (as you say in the rest of that paragraph) is all the more reason that you should have been the table maniac. A whole table full of opponents afraid to put chips in the middle means tons of golden opportunities for bluffing and stealing.

Playing exactly the same way as everybody else means that you're relying solely on luck, not skill, to make you the winner.

Are you familiar with Arnold Snyder's method for mathematically analyzing a tournament structure, and calibrating your aggression accordingly? It's in his book, "The Poker Tournament Formula." One might quibble with specifics of his recommendations, but his general point is unarguable: the faster the structure, the looser and more aggressive you have to be.

I had a hunch you'd have more to say. I did consider that playing super aggro was a viable alternative.

Then I remembered your article (and blog post) about how you hated yourself for ending your first WSOP experience prematurely by trying an outrageous bluff. Hmm....maybe that's why you said don't read this article till after you bust out.

I've heard of Snyder's book but haven't had a chance to read it yet. I'll definitely check it out.